Our Boy J

The clouds parted, and power and glory shone through like search lights scanning the ground. Angels floated down, playing harps and wriggling their wings, seductively over their chubby little rumps. There were trumpets and fanfares and foot soldiers in leather.

I stood amongst the cursed and doomed of the world, my generation, proudly.

And then there he was. A little more buff than I remembered, but it was unmistakably him.

"Hey, J," I yelled out. "J, it's Christian."

He looked around.

"J, over here, with the doomed."

He looked straight at me. Did he have blue contacts in?

"Hey Chris."

Then he was standing next to me. He brushed the angel foot soldiers away. He cut his hands through the air horizontally and the trumpets and the fanfares and percussion stopped. The clouds rejoined and there was silence.

"Good to see you buddy."

"Great entrance."

"Oh, it was nothing," he said. "Just a little something Aunt Clara taught me. Before she headed for the twilight home, that is."

"Very impressive."

"So you liked it?"

"Very much."

He pulled a head-set from his lap-lap. "The entrance was a great success, thanks Libbers." He looked back at me. "I had to draw the line at the ermine cape." He raised his eyebrows. "I asked him where that got him?"

We both laughed.

"So, where have you been?"

"Oh, I've been lifting weights with Gianni and doing lunch with Di, on Ceres. Nice girl, good legs." "I thought you looked more toned."

"Does it show?" He did a twirl.

None of the faithful showed up, too busy castigating the world. Although, a few were still harping at the doomed, in the distance, too intent to notice. He helps those who help themselves, was the faint whisper of their words on the breeze.

J looked at the gathered crowd. "So, who do we have here?"

"Oh, these are the cursed and the doomed..."

"Cursed and doomed?" he asked questioningly. "I thought you were all supposed to be loving your fellow man?"

"Well... I've been trying to tell them."

"There should be no cursed or doomed," he said. "Love thy neighbour, love thy enemy, that's what it's all about."

"I think the message got lost in a million agendas..."

"It is all about selfless love," he said. "Did nobody listen?" He raised his hands in the air.

"Interesting theory," I said, jokingly.

"What were, practically, my last words," he asked, rhetorically. "You can tell the righteous from the damned by whether they'd fed the hungry; slaked the thirsty, clothed the naked, welcomed the stranger and visited the prisoner."

"I think money got in the way."

"Didn't they listen to the camel and the needle stuff?"

"What can I say?"

"You are all supposed to share," he said. "If you did there is plenty to go around."

He spoke into his head-set again. "I'll be here longer than I thought. It won't be a quick trip after all."

He looked back at me. "Turn the other cheek stuff?"

"Ah, no."

"So there is a lot of violence..." He grimaced. "Killing?"

He could tell by my look. "In your name, sometimes."

"I see."

The sky was the most brilliant blue, the sun shone brightly. Birds sang. Nature was at its most spectacular.

"So are you here to take vengeance?"

"Huh?"

"You know, on those who didn't follow the gospels?"

"What, take vengeance on them who knew not, and obeyed not the gospel?" he said. "You blokes make me laugh that you've stuck with that old book. Don't you ever update?"

What could I say. I shrugged and looked around. "Not me."

"You're like old Italian immigrants adhering to the old traditions long since let go of in the homeland."

He pulled a toga over his head that, seemingly, appeared from no where.

"Ah, what a mess." he sighed.

There were sandals at his feet, which he stepped into.

"So, did you really name the whole thing after me?" I had to ask.

He smiled. "Come on, I've got a new book for you to read," he said. "This time the main character's name is Brian."

"Genius," I said.